


Fly

by rabid_plotbunny



Series: Fly [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Humor/angst, Pre-Nibelheim Incident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-16 08:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17545796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabid_plotbunny/pseuds/rabid_plotbunny
Summary: Pre-Nibelheim AU. Hojo's filling in a form has certain... unexpected consequences for Sephiroth.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you come across a section that seems a bit vague (like in regards to lab equipment or exact army lingo), that's because either I don't have a clue, or I'm making stuff up because I can't _quite_ remember. I've tried to keep it to a minimum, but figured it wasn't exactly crucial because this is primarily a humor fic. If it was a serious fic, you can trust that the details would be as accurate as I could possibly get them.
> 
> This chapter originally posted on LJ/IJ 1-16-2008

**Part 1**

If there was one thing that Hojo – self-styled greatest scientist in the world – hated above most everything else, it was paperwork.

Why should he waste precious time writing progress reports for some corporate idiot who probably couldn't understand one tenth of the magnitude of his brilliance? Or requisition forms for the things he _should_ have been provided with without having to ask? How could the Shinra corporation possibly expect timely results when he constantly had to request the necessary equipment and supplies? Honestly, was it so difficult to understand that every modern laboratory should be equipped with at _least_ a handful of Mako conversion units, coupled with a full series of cross-conversion tubes? He had at least a dozen in his apartment's kitchen! How other people somehow managed to get through the day without them, even _his_ brilliant mind shied away from contemplating.

He ground his teeth in annoyance as he moved another completed form to the 'done' pile, pulling another form over from the 'to do' pile that had taken over his office insomuch as he couldn't find the jar of nanite-supplemented Mako he had left there. Considering that the jar was about the size of his head and glowing, he decided that perhaps he should work through at least enough papers to let him find the damned jar. Sephiroth was due in the lab in a few hours and the enhanced Mako treatment was on the schedule.

He cast a quick glance over the new forms, frowning a bit in confusion. Dependent registration form? What nonsense was this? Ah – attached was a company memo.

_Due to the passing of a new law and subsequent changes in benefit policy, Shinra Inc. requests that all personnel fill out the following form. Please print clearly, in uppercase letters. Included with the form is a glossary explaining each question. Please have the forms filled out and returned to the Main Office no later than Thursday-_

Hojo cast a brief look at the newly-uncovered desk calendar. It was Thursday, if the one a week later than requested.

He snorted, moved his pen to the first question. They should be grateful he was filling it in at all. It wasn't as if he actually _had_ dependent, after all.

Wait.

That wasn't quite right, was it?

He did, after all, have some claim to Sephiroth.

Wasn't he the one who raised him? That made him a guardian, if not a parent.

A sinister smile on his face – he might be eligible for these 'benefits' after all – he filled in the form with a tad more enthusiasm and a lot more greed. His eager chuckles sent more than one lab assistant backing soundlessly out of the office, putting off until later whatever errand they'd had that brought them there.

_Section 2: About the Dependent  
2.1: First name:_

Hojo rolled his eyes, then filled it in with a flourish, his cursive scrawl bound to give headaches to whoever was unfortunate to have to decipher it: _Sephiroth_

_2.2: Last name:_

A pause, then: _n/a_

_2.3: Age:_

Age? A quick turn to the glossary defined 'age' as 'the length of time since a person was brought into the world'.

Hmmm. Did that mean since that naïve git Lucrecia birthed him, since he was released from the tube that had held him afterwards, or the time since he had left the lab?

“Brought into the world...”

They must mean since he'd left the lab and was exposed to the outside world for the first time. Yes, that must be it.

His pen moved to the appropriate blank and filled it in: _8 yrs._

_2.4: Relationship to guardian:_

Barely a pause: _Science experiment._

Hojo made his way through the rest of the form, filling it out to his satisfaction before giving it over to one of his assistants to take to the main office.

Typically, he'd have simply added it to the 'done' pile, but in this case he decided to make an exception.

After all, the sooner the form was processed, the sooner he could start receiving the new benefits...

***

One of the secretaries at the Shinra Inc. main office looked up as the door opened and a young man in a lab coat walked in, an all too familiar-looking form clutched in one hand.

“Those were supposed to be here last week,” she said as the man came over and handed her the form. A quick glance told her all she needed to know. She sighed. “Can you please tell professor Hojo that completing and submitting his paperwork on time would do a lot for his-” She trailed off, seeing the door close again, the lobby empty before her. Hmph. Were _all_ scientist-types so antisocial? Really, now.

She sighed, stood. Might as well bring it down to the sorting room where the forms were slowly being processed.

As she walked, she couldn't help but give the form a quick look over, wondering what _Hojo_ of all people could have had to write about.

Stopped, stared wide-eyed at some of the answers.

She changed direction, heading instead for her superior's office. This... this horror could not be allowed to continue! Using an eight-year-old as a guinea pig? Hojo had gone too far!

Her boss glanced at the form at her request. The bored mask quickly vanished as he saw what she had seen, his expression darkening the further down the page he read. He was on the phone before he had even finished the first page.

It was only afterward that they noticed the name of the child in question and realized that they _might_ have acted a bit hastily.

But by then, the wheels were already in motion and it was much too late.

***

Sephiroth and Zack walked around the assembled transports in the courtyard, giving the convoy a last inspection before they were due to leave.

Some tiny mountain town had been having unusually high numbers of monsters, and with the Mako reactor just up the mountain from there, the company was a bit concerned. Anything that had the potential to disrupt the operation of the reactor – and thus cut into their profits – was something that had to be eliminated. _Now,_ or sooner.

He tried not to wonder what the fate of the little town – Nibelheim, that was it – would have been if it _hadn't_ been so close to the Mt. Nibel reactor.

Sephiroth glanced over the assembled men as Zack wandered off to speak with one of the anonymous grunts.

Satisfied that everything was in order, he was about to give the order for them to get into the trucks when his attention was seized by a group of people entering the courtyard from the direction of the main Shinra building.

Blue-green eyes quickly scanned the group, quickly concluding 'non-military' as he saw the suits, then ruling out 'Turks' as he saw one man's harried face as he spoke to a determined-looking woman who was striding across the courtyard dressed in slacks and a sensibly-colored blouse, armed with a clipboard in one hand and – he blinked - a teddy bear in the other. Turks were too ruthless to ever appear harried in any but the most extreme situations, and last he had heard, none of them carried weapons modified to look like a child's plaything. The four burly men who accompanied her he dumped into the category of 'possible ex-military' (though not SOLDIER), even as he placed the harried man into 'Shinra office worker' and the woman into 'unclassified, but possibly dangerous'. There was just something about the look in her eyes that gave him the chills, though he would deny it to the grave.

What could he – SOLDIER-General Sephiroth, born and bred to be the best living weapon on the planet – possibly have to fear from one small woman?

Still, it took him more effort than he would readily admit for him to turn his back to them and give his delayed order, watching as the soldiers climbed up into the trucks in an orderly procession.

“Ah... General?”

He looked back at the meek query just as he was pulling himself into the truck to find that the group had come to a halt not far away, all attention focused on him. He let himself back down to the ground, peripherally aware of Zack coming to stand at his back in a show of support. “Yes?” he asked in reply. “Make it quick. I don't have time for this.”

The man paled at the obvious irritation, stammered.

The woman gave the office worker a scathing glance, then stepped forward slightly even as she consulted the papers attached to the clipboard. “I'm looking for a 'Sephiroth',” she said, looking at him expectantly.

The white-haired man crossed his arms over his chest. “I am Sephiroth.”

She frowned, looking over her papers. “I'm looking for the Sephiroth who is the charge of one professor Hojo.”

“I am he.”

The frown deepeded. “I see,” she said at last. “I'm looking for-”

“I am the only Sephiroth in Hojo's care,” he ground out, anticipating her next question, the sharp edge of irritated annoyance in his voice. “There are no others. Whatever business you have is with me. Now, if you could get on with it? You're wasting my time.”

Her lips tightened in confusion even as the frown deepened more. She cast an inquisitive glance in Zack's direction.

The spiky-haired brunet held up his gloved hands in warding. “He's telling the truth. There's only one Seph in Shinra, and he's it.”

Faced with the double assertion, she shrugged, frown melting away. “I see. This is a bit unexpected.” Another shrug, then she held out the bear to the tall General. “Then this is for you.”

Reluctantly, leather-clad arms uncrossed and gloved hands took the offered toy. “Why-?”

“Oh! I never introduced-?” she exclaimed. “I'm sorry! I'm Kate, head of one of the retrieval teams for the Midgar branch of Child Protection Services. You're coming with me.”

Sephiroth frowned, toy bear hanging forgotten by one arm from a tense hand. “I think not. If this is what you came for, you can leave. As I've already said, our departure is overdue.”

“I'm sorry, but you are. According to the new laws passed last month, it is our duty to rescue minors who are suspected victims of abuse, and not even Shinra has the power to stop us if our proof is sure.”

Sephiroth stared. “I am the highest-ranked SOLDIER in the program and as you can see, certainly no minor.”

“I'm sorry, Sephiroth, but your guardian listed your official age as eight years. That is definitely a minor.”

“You must be kidding.” He could hear Zack's muffled laughter behind him. Sure; it must be amusing for _him!_

“Ah, General?” It was the nervous man again. “With all due respect, President Shinra orders that for simplicity's sake you accompany these people until we are able to get this sorted out.”

“You expect me to-”

“Yes.”

“But-”

“He _did_ make it an order. Are you refusing?”

“...No,” came the reply, growled from behind gritted teeth. He looked to the woman. “Where-?”

“You will be taken to one of the orphanages run by us here on the Plate and properly cared for until such time as you leave our care either through the resolution of this little issue, you legally become an... er... adult, or someone adopts you.”

Blue-green eyes glared daggers. And swords. And high-powered, Mako-enhanced artillery. “This could take years.”

“It's possible,” the woman acknowledged, “since it was your guardian's sworn statement that you are eight. That won't be easy to refute, especially considering his livelihood.” A tentative smile. “Think of it like a vacation.”

“Hey, now!” Zack butted in, staring incredulously at the group, all laughter fled once he realized that these people were _serious_ , that they fully intended to take Seph away. “You can't be serious! You can't just come in here and expect us to just hand him ove-”

“I've never had a vacation.” Was that the barest trace of wistfulness in the tone?

Silence greeted the statement, then:

“Seph? You're not actually thinking of _going_ with them, are you?”

A small shrug. “I don't see how I could avoid it. It _is_ an order now, straight from the President.”

A snort. “And you've never bent orders until they squealed _before_. Right. I must be thinking of the _other_ Seph – oh, right, you're the only one!”

“Zack.”

“Argh! Fine! Do what you want!” A look, curiosity shining clearly amidst the frustration. “Why _do_ you want to do this?”

A small, vicious smile. “The look on Hojo's face when he sees I'm out of his reach.”

“Ummm?” It was Kate. “He said that your relation to him was 'science experiment'...?”

A snort. “So he did put down some truth, after all.”

Curious now as to what else the scientist had written, he took the clipboard from the woman, giving the bear over to a startled Zack.

She promptly grabbed for the board. “There are just somethings a minor is not supposed to know!”

A growling glare, as ineffective as the previous ones had been, then he lifted it, holding it up above his head as he quickly read, ignoring the way she was jumping up and down in her efforts to reach. Once he was done, he handed it over. The information he'd read was sinking into his memory; he'd go over it later. He had a feeling that it _might_ prove useful.

Regaining her composure, she motioned behind her to the courtyard exit, doors already opened in anticipation of the convoy's departure. “Shall we, then?”

Despite what he'd told Zack, a muscle in his cheek twitched as he grit his teeth. Then he moved, stepping around her in the direction of the doors.

“Ah.”

He paused at her noise, one eye looking at her over an armored shoulder.

“Please leave any weapons behind. We can't guarantee their safety if you bring them, and there _are_ children around. We wouldn't want one of them to think anything was a toy and get injured.”

A short hesitation, then he walked back over to Zack, glaring at the suited group even as he handed over the Masamune, a surprising number of smaller blades, and an armful of Materia in various stages of mastery.

“Geez, Seph, how did you _move_?” Zack asked as Sephiroth filled his arms with weaponry. A quick glance around then he spoke, low enough that only the white-haired General could hear. “Maybe it won't be so bad. You can relax, have some fun. Besides, I've been having bad feelings about you going to Nibelheim.”

Now Sephiroth frowned in concern. Zack's premonitions were usually uncannily accurate. If he said that Sephiroth should think twice before going to Nibelheim, the General would give it second, third, and fourth thoughts. “Any particular reason?”

A helpless shrug, then awkward scramble to hang on to the equipment he'd been burdened with even while hanging on to the teddy with one hand. “Not really anything specific; that's why I didn't bring it up before. Just... Fire, pain...”

“I see.”

Kate's voice again. “The coat, too. You won't need armor.”

Annoying. His hands itched for the Masamune. Squashing down the feeling, he undid the coat and passed it to a grunt that came over at Zack's urging, the coat followed quickly by the shoulder armor and plated belt.

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable out in the open, unarmed and unarmored, despite knowing that he was still perfectly capable of taking care of any attacks even so, Sephiroth turned to the doors once again, the CPS personnel falling in around him.

They were about halfway across the courtyard when Kate paused, turned, and dashed back to where Zack stood watching. She grabbed the bear with a defiant look, then ran back to the others, giving the bear back to the General.

Zack's last sight of his friend before the door of the CPS van closed behind him was of long white hair flowing over bare back and shoulders, a stuffed bear hanging forlornly by the arm from one gloved hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on IJ/LJ on 1-23-2008

**Part 2**

Sephiroth followed Kate down one of the orphanage's upstairs hallways, adding it to his growing mental map of the building. Open doors lined the hallway, letting him see that each room was the same as the one before; six beds sitting perpendicular to the far wall, a small shelf to the left of each and a wooden chest at the foot. The beds themselves were neatly made and covered with mismatched patchwork blankets.

Kate led him to the end of the hallway then turned into the room on the left, stopping at the far end of the room in front of a bed no different from the others. “This will be your bed for the duration of your stay with us,” she said, gesturing at it. “Clothes – we'll provide that now that we have your size – go in the chest, folded neatly, as do any private items. Anything else – such as books – go on your shelf. Meals are served at eight, noon, and six in the cafeteria on the first floor. There is a toilet just down the hall; full bathing facilities are downstairs. You are expected to keep your area neat, but coming from the army I don't think that will be a problem.”

“I am not army. I am SOLDIER.”

“Whatever. You should be fine. Do you have any questions?”

He looked around the room, then back at her. “There are five other beds here.”

“You have five roommates. We try to keep similar ages together, so they're all eight.”

“But _I'm_ not.”

“There's nothing we can do about that; I'm sorry.”

A near-silent sigh. Great; he was supposed to share his personal space? Growing up as he had, he'd never had to do so. Even during SOLDIER training, he'd always been given special allowances due to who he was. And he'd certainly never been around children! How advanced were normal eight year olds? Could they speak yet? A horrible thought – they _were_ toilet-trained, weren't they?

Oblivious to the thoughts running through his head, Kate smiled gently. “Lunch isn't too far away; someone will come to show you the way when it's time to eat. Until then, why don't you take the time to get settled in. I'm sure that in a few days, you'll find that it isn't _really_ as bad as it might seem right now.”

On that note, she made a hasty departure while he was still standing there staring at the extra beds, horrible thoughts running through his head.

_Enough._ He shook himself, pushing the thoughts from his mind with an effort. No use making things up; he'd see the reality for himself before too long. The imagined monster was always – all right, _mostly_ – worse than the reality.

Another put-upon sigh, then he moved to his assigned bunk. He sat down on the side of the surprisingly-comfortable bed, sitting the toy bear he had been given down against the wall that ran down one side, then closed his eyes and let himself fall back onto it, careful to keep his still-booted feet off the blankets, his head landing on the pillow with a muffled crunch.

Blue-green eyes snapped open, even as one snowy brow rose in question. 'Crunch'? Since when did pillows crunch? There was no pain in his head, so he hadn't injured himself, but even so. Crunch?

He pushed himself up on one elbow and looked at his pillow, for the first time noticing the little pile of multicolored paper that sat there. Now what?

He sat up facing the pillow, one leg curling up to let him sit more comfortably, though still keeping his feet off the covers – he should probably just take his boots off – then reached out and pulled the little pile to him, flipping through them quickly.

Various renditions of 'Welcome, Sephiroth' in untidy scrawls greeted him, along with more stick-figures and poorly-drawn people than he'd seen since he'd last taught a Third-Class reconnaissance course. Why...?

A small, confused shrug, then he placed the papers onto one of the empty shelves and lay back down, staring up at the white-painted ceiling and trying to relax. It was hard; he felt like he should be up, should be doing _something_. Well, he supposed that was because he _should_. He should be on a truck headed to Nibelheim with Zack; not lounging around in bed at some orphanage! He was SOLDIER!

A deep breath. Calm down. Calm. Think of Hojo's reaction. A wry smirk. Yes, that works. He could just _see_ the miserable excuse for a man turning various shades of enraged. Beautiful. He felt the tension ease out of his shoulders. He sank further into the pillow, closed his eyes and let himself drift.

*******

“Sephiroth?”

Blue-green eyes snapped open at the call even as he sat up abruptly, hand automatically going for the Masamune – which just wasn't there. He scanned his surroundings, searching. Where was it...? Stopped as he took in the sight of the other five beds, the sensibly-dressed young man standing by the door, memory coming back in a rush. He was at an orphanage because Hojo had felt the need to prove his stupidity beyond a shadow of a doubt. Right. He remembered.

“Sephiroth?” the man asked again, taking a cautious step further into the room. “I'm Kevin. Kate sent me; lunch is ready.” He lifted a bundle that rested in the crook of one arm. “I brought you some clothes, and some house shoes. I hope they fit; we've never had anyone quite your... size... before.”

The white-haired man said nothing; rising from the bed to take the bundle from the other man. He looked down at it as he carried it back to the bed, frowning as he saw just _what_ it was that he held. He had never worn clothes like that in his life. Well, the t-shirt was a bit similar to the plain things he'd been given to wear as a child by the scientists, but none of _those_ had featured the colorful image of a cartoonish bird and the words 'I (heart) Chocobos'. At least the jogging pants seemed plain enough, as did the socks and shoes.

Another sigh; it seemed to be his day for them. At least none of the other SOLDIERs would see him.

A quick glance over his shoulder, then cold eyes narrowed. “Do you _mind?_ ” he ground out, seeing the other man still there, and staring.

“Wha-? Oh! No! Sorry!” the man stammered, turning his back. “Please, go ahead.”

“Hn.”

First on was that evil shirt. As much as he hated to admit it, it was a good fit, comfortable, warm enough, and helped to relieve the subconscious tension that being half-naked in a strange place had given him. Not that he would admit it, of course. The rest of the clothing was similarly adequate, though strange against his skin considering that he'd spent the greater portion of his life in skin-tight leather and this was anything _but_.

His leather pants and boots he folded neatly and placed in the chest, though not without a pang.

That done, he walked over to the other man and together they made their way down the hallway, then down the stairs toward the yet-unseen cafeteria.

“So,” the young man said quietly as they went down the stairs. “You're Sephiroth?”

“Yes.”

“So what's that like? Did you get teased a lot?”

“What?”

“You know, for being named after _him_. _The_ Sephiroth. The most kick-ass guy _ever._ ” A small pause. “I guess it can't be that bad, if you'd grow your hair out and get the dye-job just to look like him.”

“Pardon...?” 

“Come on! You have to know about Sephiroth! The posters of him are everywhere; Shinra's poster-boy!”

“There are posters...?”

“You bet! I have the whole set! Every single one that's out so far, _and_ the action figure!”

“Action figure? What's an action figure?”

Kevin stopped dead. Turned. Stared at him. Shook his head. “Man, you really _did_ have it tough.” He started walking again. “After lunch, I'll show you the play-room. We've got tons of action figures there. There's even a few Sephiroth ones, but none in as good shape as mine!”

*******

Lunch at the cafeteria was an ordeal that he had the sinking feeling he was just going to have to get used to.

Being who and what he was, he was used to having all eyes on him when he chose to eat in one of the cafeterias in the Shinra complex set aside for SOLDIER use. He usually tried to avoid it, but he was obligated to spend a certain percentage of his meals with the men, in order to 'promote fellowship' or some other such corporate nonsense. He had gotten used to the way the noise in the room would dip sharply for a time after he entered the room, the way every pair of glowing eyes followed him with respect and a sort of almost-awe. And though they were SOLDIER as well, and would talk about him to each other in low tones when he was there, none of them ever tried to engage him in conversation. None until Zack, anyway.

But those were SOLDIER, and trained to respect authority.

_These_ were children, and under no such constraints when it came to him.

“Why's your hair white?”

“Your eyes are weird. Are you sick or something?”

“Ha, ha! You've got hair like a girl! Nyeh, nyeh!”

“So what's your name?”

“I can turn my eyelids inside-out without touching them! Wanna see?”

“You're not saying anything. Are you one of those mutts, the guys that can't talk?”

“It's _mutes_ , moron.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

And he'd though _Zack_ was the epitome of irreverent babble; these children were a hundred times worse! He'd have to apologize the next time he saw the man.

May it be soon!

“Hellllooooooo?”

*******

Later that night, lying on his bed in the darkness illuminated only by a thin line of light that leaked in around the cracked-open door and bled in through the windows from the streetlights, the deep breathing of his five sleeping roommates echoing rhythmically through the room, Sephiroth considered his situation.

He would, he decided, be able to tolerate it, if not enjoy it. If this was what a vacation was like, then he was glad he'd never had one before. He'd been assured by multiple staff members that once the novelty wore off, the children would leave him alone more.

He could only hope.

True to his word, Kevin had indeed shown him to the play-room and liberated a Sephiroth action figure from the confused mess that was one of the toy boxes. He still couldn't define the feeling that had washed over him when he held that bit of vinyl and plastic in his hand and stared down into a very poor, molded approximation of his own face, dressed in an equally-questionable rendition of his typical apparel, accessorized with a tiny, blunted, bendable rubber Masamune with the bad silver paint-job. It was horror, but so much more as well. One was currently on his shelf, sitting on his little stack of welcome-papers.

Shinra was going to have a lot to answer for when he got back!

Assuming he got back.

No, he couldn't think like that! He _would_ get back. The Shinra lawyers were unrivaled, and it was in the President's best interests to get his best fighter back as soon as possible. Wasn't it?

And even if it wasn't, he knew he could rely on Zack. Zack, the only man in the SOLDIER program that treated him like an actual person rather than some idol on a pedestal. Zack, who after imposing himself on the General for the first time one lunch hour had proceeded to drag him into a massive food-fight that had him washing vegetable matter out of his hair for a greater portion of the afternoon, then had the guts to join him again the next time he went to the mess for lunch.

Doubtless, Zack would come up with some crazy scheme that would boggle the minds of all involved, but _somehow_ actually end up working. In some way, at least, and typically the least expected.

He could only hope that the Shinra lawyers could work this out before Zack was due back from Nibelheim.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on IJ/LJ 2-2-2008

**Part 3**

It was the eyes that woke him.

Growing up where he had, and then with his military career after that, he'd become hypersensitive to the feeling of being watched even before the Mako treatments he'd been given had sharpened his senses to an almost-painful acuteness.

It took him less time than the last to remember where he was and why as he lay there, feigning sleep even as he strained his senses, trying to learn all he could about the owner of those eyes without revealing anything in return. He relaxed slightly as he recalled his unusual circumstances, but _only_ slightly. The instinctive paranoia was far too ingrained to be rid of in less than a day, after all, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. He wouldn't be at the orphanage forever, and being less than fully alert at all times either at the Shinra complex or out in the field was simply asking for trouble.

Listening, he could hear their breathing. It was the same breathing that had eventually lulled him to sleep the night before, if not quite so deep now that they were awake. His five roommates; three at the side of the bed, two at the foot. All staring.

His internal clock told him that dawn was not far away, though not yet more than a slight brightening of night's darkness in the east, and near enough to his usual rising hour that he would have awakened on his own soon enough.

The silent staring was getting a bit annoying.

Opening his eyes, he sat up abruptly, drawing a couple of surprised noises from his audience.

As he'd suspected, his five new roommates stood around his bed, still in their pajamas, watching him with wide eyes. He waited for a long moment for someone to say something, then got up out of bed with a mental shrug when none of them did anything but stare. He took a moment to straighten his clothing; he'd worn the t-shirt and jogging pants to bed after being told the night before that they hadn't found any actual sleepwear for him yet, though thankfully he had a change of day-wear. He walked over to the clear spot of floor at the foot of his bed and started in on his morning exercises, finding some comfort in the familiarity of the stretches, the motions, a welcome change from the bewildering confusion of his situation.

“Hey, Mister,” one of the children piped up at last, urged on by the others. “Are you lost? 'Cause that's the new kid's bed and you was sleepin' in it. He was s'posed t'come here yesterday, but didn't. D'jou know where he is? His name's Se... Sephy...”

“Sephiroth,” he said slowly, making sure to clearly dictate each syllable, pausing in his workout.

“You know 'im?” The kids had gathered together and were staring again.

“I _am_ him.”

“You sure? 'Cause they told us he's eight, and you look way old.”

“I'm sure,” he said dryly. “There's been a mix-up and I have to stay here until they get it cleared up.”

“Then what?”

“What?”

“You said until they fix it. Then what?”

“Then I go back to where I was before.”

“Oh.”

A small pause. He wasn't the most perceptive being when it came to human interaction outside the field of battle, but there was something in the tone of that one syllable that made him think that he might have said something wrong. “What is it?”

“You have a home already, then?” The tone was wistful.

A home? He thought of his quarters in the Shinra building. It was spacious but impersonal as it had been since it was given to him; redecorated once a year by a decorator hired by the company. There was nothing there that he had picked out himself. Even his clothing was chosen by an image councelor working for Shinra. His kitchen cupboards were stocked with pre-packaged meals tailored to fulfill his nutritional requirements as calculated monthly by Hojo. Was that a home?

“...I have a place I live.”

“Oh. It's like here, then. A place to stay until someone with a home comes and picks you.”

“No, it's not like here.” There was no bright future to look forward to, after all. Just more of the same endless streams of paperwork interrupted by the occasional mission. That was the sum of his life and all it would ever be until the day he died.

How depressing.

In an effort to distract himself from the downward spiral his thoughts had taken, he started back in on his exercises. The repetitive motions of the sit-ups bred an almost-meditative state of calm.

They were still staring. He closed his eyes against the sight.

“What'cha doing?”

“Exercises.”

For a while there was quiet, and the feeling of being watched lessened slightly. From the far side of the room came a few small rustling noises, then the sound of children playing quietly. Quietly for them, anyway, which was still quite loud as far as he was concerned. Then, just as he was deciding that all five must be over there playing – unable to hear their breathing now over the sound of his own – he heard a few strained-sounding noises from nearby that made blue-green eyes open in consternation. What could it be _now?_

Looking over, he paused in his routine as he saw that only two of the five were actually on the other side of the room playing. The other three were closer, casting the occasional glance his way as they strained to do sit-ups with just as much wasted energy as a bunch of new recruits. Their form was terrible; it made his inner perfectionist cringe.

When one of the staff came to herd them down to the morning showers, they were greeted by the sight of three eight-year-olds doing exercises under the firm instruction of their newest charge.

***

Over the next week or so, the staff at the orphanage noticed a change in a certain ever-expanding group of children. It started with the ones who shared a room with Sephiroth. They seemed to become slightly more disciplined, and it wasn't rare for one of the staff to go into their room to change the bedding or bring in fresh clothing and find one or more in there doing various exercises, the beds already stripped, dirty laundry sorted, and all possessions stowed away neatly in their proper places.

They could hardly complain about _that_ ; why would they when it was something that actively benefited the children? But there were other sides to the new Sephiroth-equation that they were less sure about. Like the way the playground outside had become an obstacle course, or the way playtime in the main rec room had turned into an ever-growing tactics class, using action figures and dolls as the examples. 

Sephiroth and the children would set up a terrain, then he would explain a goal and the tactics involved in securing it, then sit back and let the children plan it out using maps drawn on construction paper with crayons. Then they would take the dolls and action figures and put the plans in motion. Sephiroth, of course, always managed to secure a 'Sephiroth' action figure for himself, delighting in pressing the button on the back that made the eyes light up whenever it was his turn to swoop down on the unsuspecting opposition, though he had no idea what those odd blasting noises the toy also emitted were supposed to be. Materia shots, maybe?

Also suspect were the late-night dessert-raids. They could only have been planned by someone with a lot of experience in covert activities, seeing as how there was never even a scrap of evidence left behind. The dishes were washed and put away, as was the cutlery. There were never any crumbs, and the kitchen was just as spotless – if not more so – as it had been when it was closed up the previous evening. Only some of the dessert was gone, and not a trace of it was left behind.

The tactics classes they let slide. Boys will be boys after all, and at least now their playing war was a lot more quiet and contained than it had been before, as well as quite a bit more organized than the free-for-all chaos it had been before. That small, fleeting grin that occasionally crossed the silver-haired man's face when one of the children managed to pull off one of the things he'd taught them was another reason they decided to leave well enough alone.

As for the dessert-problem, they tried locking the kitchen doors. 

It disappeared anyway.

***

Heavy boots raised little clouds of dust as they hit the brick of the main courtyard after jumping down from the back of the transport.

Zack stretched expansively, breathing in the familiar Midgar air – a rude awakening after the fresh mountain air of the little village on the side of Mt. Nibel. They said that the ride back home after a mission always felt shorter than the trip out but you wouldn't be able to tell, if the numbness in his butt was any indication. They should really invest in padded seats in the transports for those drives lasting more than a day. He might be SOLDIER, but his butt could get just as sore as the next guy's after sitting on those hard seats for days on end. He was surprised the grunts could walk at all!

Nibelheim had been, if not a total bust, at least only as much trouble as they could handle. A few injuries – only one life-threatening – but no fatalities. Yet. They still weren't sure about Jenkins, but he'd stuck with them for _that_ long, so...

Another successful mission completed.

Now for the not-so-fun part; paperwork.

***

It took nearly the rest of the day to write the reports, but he was finally done.

He dumped his away-bag in the bedroom to be emptied out later, then hopped in the shower. A long, indulgent soak in water just barely shy of blistering-hot, a change of clothes, then he was on his way out of the base and into Midgar.

In his pocket was the result of a half-hour's phone-tag; the address of the orphanage where they'd taken Sephiroth.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to IJ/LJ 2-10-2008

**Part 4**

Zack followed a harried-looking staff member down the orphanage hallway, mapping it out in his head as he was sure Seph had before him. They stopped at a door no different from the countless others they had passed. The young man waved at it absently then left, going back to whatever it was that he'd been doing before the spiky-haired brunet showed up.

The SOLDIER shook off the bemusement at the absentminded brush-off, then moved into the open doorway. The room was neat, everything in its proper place, beds made with near-military precision that was oddly out of place in a children's room. Then his eyes settled on the last bed and he couldn't help the grin that showed up as he finally spied the object of his search.

Sephiroth sat propped up against the headboard of the bed, over the covers, a pillow cushioning his back, dressed in clothing he was sure the silver-haired man had been given no choice about. Childish drawings on colored paper bearing the barely-legible words 'Welcome Sephiroth' were taped to the wall that ran the length of the far side of the bed. On a small shelf next to the bed was a stack of thin books, a familiar teddy bear and – Zack could barely suppress a startled laugh – a 'Sephiroth' action figure. It was standing on the reclining bear's stomach, tiny rubber Masamune at the other toy's throat. Scattered on the covers around the warrior were yet more books, another propped open on in his lap as he read.

Zack knocked lightly on the door frame, quietly announcing himself before going in and crossing the room, his heavy boots thumping on the thin rug.

“Hey, Seph,” he said brightly. He sat down on the edge of the bed closest to Sephiroth, reaching out to snag one of the books around the silver-haired General even as the other man carefully marked his place and set his own book aside for later. A quick look down at what he held made one dark brow quirk, eyes sparkling in amusement even as the irrepressible grin widened. “'The Adventures of Speckle the Rainbow Chocobo'?”

Was that-? Yes, it was! The faintest hint of color graced pale cheekbones. “They're quite fascinating, actually,” Sephiroth said with all the semi-embarrassed dignity he could muster. “This Speckle is quite ingenious in the face of adversity. I would never have thought to use an old sheet, a mousetrap, and a bucket of greens to cross a river after the bridge got washed away.”

“A sheet...?” Zack paused, mind working to figure out _how_ those three items could be combined and used to cross a river, coming up blank.

“Or the one where he saved a village from a group of monsters with a crate of celery and a pair of pink undergarments.”

“Resourceful,” Zack agreed, again drawing a blank. A sudden thought had the grin back up to full wattage. “Does this mean you're going to add 'Defeating Monsters with Veggies' to the list of required courses in the SOLDIER program, then?”

A quiet snort, blue-green eyes amused. “Hardly,” he replied. A small pause. “But I _am_ considering making Speckle required reading. Perhaps that would encourage the men to think for themselves instead of relying solely on books and tradition.”

“Not the cadets, I hope!” Zack exclaimed, eyes wide in alarm. “We're trying to get them to be _less_ 'creative' right now! They need to learn the inside of the box before they start poking around outside it!”

“Agreed. I was thinking more along the lines of First Class. People who have a firm grasp of the traditional ways of warfare and could benefit from the new viewpoint.”

“Could work,” Zack mused. “Celery and underwear, huh? If the rest of these are like that, it will make the the Snow War interesting, at least.”

Sephiroth smiled faintly at the thought. “That it would.”

The Snow War was something SOLDIERs looked forward to every year. The General was on one side, his second on the other, and First through Third Classes divided evenly among them by randomized draw. The goal was to capture the leader of the opposing side. The rules were simple: you could use snow in any form, but no ice, no other weapons, no materia, and no serious injuries.

Everyone was treated equally no matter their Class, and it was a tribute to the spirit of the event that even Sephiroth himself had on more than one occasion been rolled in the snow and had some of the cold white stuff stuffed down the back of his coat after being captured – and not by Zack, either. For that one day, he was no different from any other SOLDIER.

Though it would start out organized enough in the morning, by mid-afternoon it was usually a huge free-for-all with snow and laughter flying everywhere.

Sephiroth shook off the memory, mood sinking a bit as he wondered if he would see it that year, or if he would still be at the orphanage. It was already October...

As always, Zack managed to pull him from his sinking mood with an abrupt change in topic. Or, in this case, a huge, bone-crushing hug.

“Zack-?” Sephiroth gasped, breath partially squeezed out of him by the brunet's strong hold. He squirmed, for the moment ignoring the indignity, trying to escape the uncomfortable hold. Also as always. “What are you-?”

Zack finally backed off, grin once more in full force. “What you told me to,” he said with a nod to the other man's shirt.

Sephiroth looked down, scowling as he was reminded of his current apparel. Or rather, the shirt with its irritatingly happy smiley face and the words 'HUG ME'.

He'd rather the wear the damned Chocobo shirt. At least it was _slightly_ more dignified!

Seeing that his devious plan had worked – or at least that his friend had gone from 'depressed' to 'irritated' – Zack once again changed the subject. “So, how are you holding up here?”

The General considered. “I suppose I am doing well enough. I can't say I miss the constant tests and never-ending truckloads of paperwork.”

“And how are you getting along with the children? That had to be a bit of a shock.”

“It was.” A considering pause. “They are tolerable as well. Most still ignore me, but those that don't are taking to the lessons surprisingly well.”

“Lessons?” Zack was baffled. “They have you teaching? So much for a vacation!”

“It's unofficial,” Sephiroth said. “You should have seen it; it was horrible! I went to the play-room and they were everywhere, fighting with dolls and action figures with no tactics whatsoever! It was chaos! I just couldn't leave it like that.”

Blue-violet eyes sparkled. “You decided to teach a bunch of kids tactics? Boy, you sure have your work cut out for you!”

“Actually, as I said, they're doing surprisingly well.” He reached onto his shelf, pulling a sheaf of colored papers out from the bottom shelf and handing them over to Zack. “They did these.”

Zack flipped through them, staring at the crayon markings with surprise. Seph was right; the kids had grasped concepts he was having trouble beating into the Second and Third Class blockheads. And “Is this the 'Fort Condor Attack' simulation?!”

Sephiroth glanced over briefly. “Yes,” he said. That was one of his proudest moments with his little class. “The residents of Fort Condor had best be wary if they're ever about to be attacked by the children. As I recall, it fell astonishingly quickly, even with my defense.”

“Maybe we should have _them_ teach the classes back at Shinra. Surely the shame would make the concepts finally sink in to those idiots.”

A bemused smirk, blue-green eyes sparkling in amusement at the thought. “I'll keep it in mind.” Then the smirk faded, eyes growing serious. “Speaking of which, how did the Nibelheim mission go?”

A grimace. “Pretty boring, actually. It was mostly the usual; you know, mako-enhanced monsters everywhere. There was something odd about the reactor, but I dealt with it.”

“Odd? Was that what you had sensed before?”

“Yeah. Some weird woman encased in a mako tube in the reactor core was speaking in my head, telling me she was my mother and that I had to destroy the world for her.”

One silver brow rose sharply. That was certainly odd. “Oh?”

“Yeah. It was strange. Anyway, I busted the tube and tossed her down into the mako. She won't be pulling that on anyone else.”

“I see.” It seemed a bit odd, that Zack should go to such extremes to deal with a being that was already locked away like that, but he shrugged it off. He was sure his second had had good reason, and would tell him some day. “Casualties?”

“Jenkins was a bit touch-and-go for a while, but he's all right now. Only casualty was what the residents called the 'Shinra Mansion'.” He caught the curious look Sephiroth sent his way and ducked his head, one hand coming up and rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. “I was fighting this monster in the town and finished it off with a good hit. Sent it flying back into a power-line support pole. The pole broke, the power lines fell on the house, caught fire, and burnt it to the ground.”

“Careless, Zack,” Sephiroth said reproachfully. “You should be aware of things like that at all times-”

“Can we not have this talk right now? I've already gotten it from Shinra bigwigs. Destruction of Shinra property, blah blah blah. Not to mention I got it on the scene from this raggedy guy in a red cloak that shot out of the burning place like his butt was on fire. And you think _you_ have creepy eyes. This guy's were hellfire-red, and he had this gold claw on his left arm....”

“Now you're making things up.”

“I wish. I'm going to have nightmares about that guy, I just know it.”

Sephiroth was still doubtful, but glad that the mission was over and that everyone had returned alive. He reached down, grabbed a Speckle book at random and offered it. “Here. See if this gets your mind off your mysterious man in red.”

“Not likely,” Zack snorted, but took the book anyway. A few minutes later, he closed the cover and reached for another one. “Hey, you're right. These things are good!”

“Hmm,” was all Sephiroth said.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on IJ/LJ on 2-18-2008

**Part 5**

Zack was walking down the now-familiar hallways of the orphanage on the way to Sephiroth's room, Stage One of his Absolutely Brilliant Secret Plan To Get Seph Out already in progress in Kate's office. He couldn't wait to see the look on Sephiroth's face when he broke the news once the wheels were unstoppably in motion. He hoped it would be soon; otherwise he might burst from holding the secret in!

Since he'd gotten back from Nibelheim, he'd been over as often as his schedule allowed. He had to admit, after seeing his friend interact with the children, that perhaps this whole mix-up had actually been good for him. That cold, hard, 'come-any-closer-and-die' shell that had surrounded him for as long as Zack had known him had thawed quite a bit, though it was still there and some bit of it probably always would be.

He'd hardly believed his eyes the first time he'd walked into the playroom to see one of those infamous tactics lessons. The little smile on the silver-haired man's face as he 'flew' his action figure over the 'battlefield', the easy way he answered the children's questions, the way he had actually let them push him down and climb on him when he'd been 'defeated' after they successfully used a maneuver that Zack himself could barely recall...

Yes, perhaps just this once, something Hojo had a hand in had turned out well. Probably because it wasn't what the scientist had intended at all.

“Mister Fair?” Kevin called from down the hall as he caught up to the other man. “Mister Fair? Could I talk to you for a minute?”

Zack stopped, turned to face the young man. “Yeah?”

Kevin fidgeted a little, hands clutching something behind his back, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot even as he tried not to show it. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

The spiky-haired SOLDIER crossed his arms over his chest, head leaning slightly to one side in curiosity. “What is it?”

A brief hesitation, then Kevin pulled what appeared to be a cardboard poster tube and holding it out in Zack's direction. “You're SOLDIER First Class, so you work with him, right? General S-Sephiroth? Do you think you could... _getmehisautograph?”_

Zack blinked, sorting out the mush of sounds the request had blurred into, finally deciphering it. He frowned. “Why don't you ask him yourself?”

Now it was Kevin's turn to frown. “How could I do that? I'm just an orphanage worker. There's no way I could get far enough into the SOLDIER base to get anywhere _near_ him.” He held out the tube again. “I would really appreciate it if you would at least ask. I mean, if he doesn't want to that's his choice, but...”

Zack just stared. “Uh, you _do_ know that Seph's not _on_ base right now, right?”

Kevin seemed to wilt slightly at the news. “Oh. He's out on some sort of mission, then? Well, could you ask him when he gets back?”

“He's... uh... not out on a mission.” A small pause. “Didn't Kate talk to you about this?”

“About what?”

A sigh of mixed disbelief and frustration. Time to try a new track. “Kevin, right? Kevin, why do you think I'm over here so often?”

“...You annoyed someone and they assigned this as punishment?”

“I'm here to visit my friend. You know, Sephiroth.”

Kevin smiled. “Yeah, our Sephiroth's a nice guy once you get to know him. He's nowhere near as prickly as he was when he first got here. I know a lot of us will miss the guy once his paperwork gets cleared up.” A small pause. “But what does that have to do with this?”

Zack stared. Was the guy being dense on _purpose?_ “I'm visiting _Sephiroth._ Here.”

“Yes, I know. And like I said-” Kevin broke off abruptly, his eyes widening comically as it finally sunk in, hands tightly gripping the sturdy cardboard tube. “You mean...? Our Sephiroth... is _the_ Sephiroth? The General? It's... it's _him?_ ”

The brunet watched in amusement as Kevin stammered and stuttered before taking off down the hall. “Where are you...? Seph's the _other_ way!”

A brief glance back over one shoulder just before rounding the turn at the end of the hallway. “I've got a _lot_ more stuff!”

Kevin showed up at Sephiroth's room with his arms full of posters and action figure boxes a half-hour later. Zack and Sephiroth were talking over one of the strategies Speckle had used in the latest book, trying to figure out how it could be used in any of the situations SOLDIER regularly faced.

Needless to say, when faced with the heap of stuff Kevin wanted his name on, Sephiroth was _not_ amused. But, faced with Kevin's puppy-eyes and Zack's friendly cajoling, he took the offered marker and signed them anyway.

***

A little over a week had passed since what Zack had started calling the Autograph Incident, and October was drawing to a close. Sephiroth entered the small room that served as Kate's office, closing the door behind him. He sat down in the uncomfortable chair in front of the desk, back straight, hands folded neatly on his lap.

“Shinra has made their first formal request for your return,” Kate said without preamble. “How do you feel about this?”

It was about time! He'd been there over a month! “I look forward to returning to my duties.”

“And your guardian? How do you feel about being returned to his custody?”

Sephiroth said nothing. How could he? He loathed the fact that Hojo had any power over him at all, hated the man with everything that he was.

“I see,” she said, making a small note on one of the papers in front of her. “It might interest you to know that Shinra's request was made using the same form as a request for the return of stolen property. How to you feel about _that?_ ”

Blue-green eyes looked away, staring almost sightlessly at one pastel wall and the encouraging posters that hung there. “Shinra funded Hojo's experiments, which led to my creation. I _am_ property.”

“You are a person,” Kate argued. “However you came into this world, you are a person. Not a thing. No matter what they might say.” It was a tired argument, and one she'd had to use on far too many children for her liking.

“A person?” It was almost wistful. Of course, Zack had been telling him that for years, but that was different. _Zack_ was different. But to hear it from someone else, someone not connected to the Company, to tell him the same thing...

“A person, with the same rights as everyone else.”

“You're wrong,” he said with certainty, relaxing a little as they returned to familiar waters. _This_ , he knew. “I don't.”

“I see,” she said. She clasped her hands together, leaned back slightly in her chair as she studied him. Then she spoke. “Given the choice between being adopted by a loving family or being returned to your guardian as per Shinra's request, which would you prefer?”

Tough question. The last few weeks had been wonderful with their utter lack of both Hojo's lab and the unending stream of paperwork that seemed to migrate to his desk. Not to mention the satisfaction derived from his unofficial lessons to the children.

What if he didn't go back? What would he miss?

After careful consideration, the only thing that came to mind was his men. The SOLDIERs he had led, had helped train, had fought for and beside both on and off the field of battle. Everything else – tests, paperwork, inescapable Shinra politics – he would leave without a second thought. But not his men.

He could not – _would_ not – abandon them.

“I....”

“Between a caring family and your guardian,” Kate prompted. “Forget everything else. Between those two, which would you-”

“Adoption,” Sephiroth said simply. “But it's not that simple. I will not abandon my men.”

“Commendable,” Kate said. “And if I told you that you didn't have to, but could still leave Hojo's care-”

“Do it.” Quick, sure, absolute. Like all of Sephiroth's decisions.

“Very well.” She dug around in the papers on her desk, finally finding the form she sought. She handed it over to him, along with a pen. “If you could fill this out and get it back to me as soon as possible....”

“What is it?” he asked, briefly looking over the form, frowning as he saw that it contained many personal questions about things he'd never even shared with _Zack_ yet, let alone some nameless strangers. Questions about how he grew up, his relationship with his guardian. Questions that made him uncomfortable just thinking about them. At least most of them seemed to be of the yes/no type. He didn't know how he'd react to having to physically _write down_ all the things Hojo had done to him in the labs, written there in ink on paper for anyone to see, that much more tangible than memory alone.

“A way to delay Shinra until the paperwork goes through.”

That caught his attention. “Paperwork...?”

Kate smiled warmly. “For your adoption.”

“My _what?_ ” Suddenly, what had sounded utopic mere minutes before took on an ominous edge. What about the plan Zack had told him he'd already started in on? How could it hold up against the double threat of both Shinra and a legitimate adoption?

“Your adoption. We've been to Mary's home already and it seems quite the nurturing environment. I'm certain you will do quite well there, and her son seems quite enthused at the thought of having you for a brother.”

“A... brother.”

“Yes, a brother. I know you've been an only child to this point but you'll adjust, as will he. He's quite the character; I'm sure he'll be just what you need.”

“How can I be adopted?” he asked, mind still reeling from the revelation. “I've seen no one. I've talked to no one. How can they have picked me? I don't want to be chosen because of my name or looks!”

“Of course not! We would never do that! We never send anyone out without them meeting first so we can be sure they will be happy. But you did meet your potential brother and seemed to get along quite well.”

Sephiroth wracked his memory, trying to recall meeting someone who could fit the vague description. One of the new children who'd joined his unofficial tactics class? Outside on the obstacle course? But no; he couldn't recall any that stayed around any longer than the others. Certainly he'd had no visitors besides-

Wait.

What did he know about this mysterious possible brother? That he was excitable and a boy. Right.

Now for Zack. Boy? Check. Excitable? Also check.

Sephiroth could barely force the question out. “What are their names?”

“Hmm?”

“Their names. The ones who want to adopt me. You said the mother's name is Mary...?”

“Oh. Yes. Mary Fair and her son Zack.”

“Oh.” It was all he could do to keep from banging his head on the nearest hard surface. _This_ was Zack's brilliant plan? _This?_

“Is something wrong? You seemed to get along fine with Zack, but if you would rather not-”

“No, go ahead,” he said at last. “You're right. They would take good care of me.”

Kate smiled. She loved that part of her job; being able to take children from their various hells and give them better homes, loving homes, homes with bright futures. Granted, Sephiroth was certainly one of the _biggest_ she'd ever placed, but the satisfaction was there nonetheless. “Good,” she said, beaming. “Now go and fill in that form and we'll see what we can do to hold Shinra off.”

He stood, form and pen in one hand, and left the room, heading to the cafeteria he knew would be empty just then to fill in the form.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on IJ/LJ 2-26-2008

**Part 6**

His phone was ringing.

On the bed, a heap of blankets and pillows stirred sluggishly. A couple of tired dark spikes of hair sticking out of the pile the only clue to their owner's identity. A muffled grumble, then one arm worked its way free of the heap, flailing around blindly until it found the bedside table, followed a fumble later by the phone. Fingers curling around the ringing device, the arm slid back into the pile of blankets which closed up again behind it.

A beep as the call was picked up. “Z'Far. Whazzat?” came the mostly-asleep greeting, usually translated as _Zack Fair. What is it?_

For a moment there was silence in the SOLDIER-First's Shinra-assigned apartment. Then the pile of blankets lurched as a suddenly wide-awake Zack Fair sat up abruptly, attention focused on his early-morning caller. “How do you know that? Who is this?” he demanded, but the only answer was the soft click as his caller disconnected. 

With an irritated growl he closed the phone, set it back on the night table. A glance at the alarm clock sitting there informed him that it was still over an hour to his usual wake-up time, but he knew there was no way he'd be able to sleep now.

He took a few minutes to mull over the information his anonymous caller had given him, then made his decision. As if there was any choice in the matter. 

He reached for his phone.

***

“Hey, Seph!”

Sephiroth looked up from his breakfast at the sound of the familiar voice, a faint frown forming. Why was Zack there so early? He said nothing, knowing that he wouldn't be hard to spot; sitting head and shoulders above everyone else at the table. He watched Zack work his way through the cafeteria's morning crowd, finally coming to a halt beside him. “You're early today,” he said simply.

Zack shrugged. What could he say? He'd never shown up in the morning before; his visits usually took place in late afternoon or early evening. But after that early-morning phone call, he'd gotten another First to fill in for him. If the warning was true, he'd be ahead of it, and if not... well, he'd still be ahead.

Today was the day Seph's paperwork was going to be finalized, and he wasn't about to let anything jeopardize that.

“Mom's already talking to Kate,” he said with a grin. “Hurry up and finish so we can go up there and get this done.”

The faint frown was back. “Why the rush?” He could somehow tell that it wasn't solely because of Zack's impatience; there was something else driving him. “What's wrong?”

The grin faded. “I got an anonymous tip-off this morning that Shinra is sending some paperwork over that would delay the adoption long enough that their lawyers could get around almost anything the orphanage could throw at them. We have to get this done before that gets here, because if we don't...”

Blue-green eyes narrowed. He should have known Shinra was planning something like that; they'd been suspiciously quiet over the last week or so, ever since they'd been presented with the result of those forms Kate had had him fill out. The meeting that followed – consisting of him, Kate, a Shinra lawyer and Hojo, as well as a Midgar city-employed social worker – was easily the most embarrassing he'd ever had. The wave of mortification that washed over him when the social worker had pulled out that doll and told him to tell them 'where the bad man touched him' was only slightly alleviated by the sight of the colors Hojo had turned when Sephiroth lay the doll down on a piece of paper and circled the whole thing. Where _hadn't_ he been poked, prodded, needled, and tested?

He stood up, lips pressed into a grim line, the remains of his breakfast forgotten. They had to get to that office _now_. Knowing how paperwork went it would take at least an hour to finalize everything, and if that messenger showed up at any point during that process...

“Sephiroth?”

The SOLDIERs looked down at the query, and were somewhat startled to find themselves the center of attention of every child at that table, a pool of quiet spreading outward from where they stood as the word spread. Soon, every eye for three tables was focused on them.

“Yes?” Sephiroth said quietly.

The child – one of his roommates – spoke up. “The place you were before. The not-home. They're trying to make you not get 'dopted?”

“They want me back, yes,” the silver-haired man answered.

“And you don't wanna.”

“No.”

“'Cuz they're bad.”

“...Yes.”

“Oh.” A small pause as the children looked to each other; not saying anything, but speaking volumes. Then dozens of determined eyes focused on the two men once more. “We'll help.”

A small smile appeared, blue-green eyes softening. “Thank you.”

Zack fidgeted. “Seph,” he said, “they're just kids. What can they do?”

A sharp glance around, then back to his spiky-haired friend. The smile stretched slightly, eyes showing pride. “They might surprise you.”

“But Seph-”

But the other man had already turned back to the children. “Your help is appreciated,” he said. “I need you to hold the man off as long as you can.” He looked to Zack. “Who are they sending?”

“According to my mystery caller, a Turk; rookie.”

“Right.” Back to the children. “He will be wearing a dark blue suit...”

Sephiroth briefed the children, then he and Zack left the cafeteria on their way to Kate's office. They were passed in the hallway by a group of children already heading out to keep an eye out in the courtyard, while the rest went hurtling by shortly after, making a brief stop in the rec room to gather construction paper and crayons before continuing on outside to morning recess, eager to put their tactics lessons to use in something other than lessons or the occasional raid.

***

It was an ungodly eight fifty-three in the morning.

Reno looked over the orphanage as he stood just outside the gate, sealed envelope bearing the Shinra crest in hand. 

Sighed.

Here he was, a new Turk, trained in a million and one ways to off someone for Shinra, out on his first assigned mission. 

Delivery boy.

Another sigh.

Couldn't the company have just hired a courier?

Ah, well. No point in whining about it now. He could only hope that his next mission was more exciting.

He straightened his neat ponytail, his suit, his tie, his regulation shades, still preening at the newness of it all; at the way it made him look like a _somebody_ instead of the nobody from the slums he _had_ been.

He pushed open the orphanage gate, walked into the courtyard, seeing children playing everywhere. He took another step, then froze as every eye in the place locked on him, eyeing him like he would a nice, juicy steak. With all the fixings. And a bottle of really expensive liquor. With someone _else_ picking up the tab.

He was at an orphanage. He was wearing a nice suit. He looked like a Somebody.

_Ah, crap._

Then the squealing mob hit him.

***

Newly-minted Sephiroth Fair was sitting in the office having tea with Kate and his new family when the door slammed open. It was almost ten.

He didn't recognize the man that stood framed in the doorway, but since the man was just a baby Turk, he didn't really expect to. Of course – he hid his amused smirk in another sip of tea – judging by the way he looked, there was some doubt he would be recognized even if someone _did_ know him.

His hair was a wild red halo around his head, aqua eyes wide, an impressive bruise blossoming on his jaw. His uniform jacket was gone, his shirt wrinkled, untucked, and torn, a few buttons missing, as was one shoe. He was breathing as if he'd just run a race, and looked like he was seriously reconsidering his choice of career.

“I've got-” pant “-a letter-” wheeze “-from Shinra!” he declared, triumphantly holding up a battered, worse-for-wear envelope with the Shinra logo on it.

“Good for you,” Zack said, taking a sip from his tea. “But if it's about Seph, you're too late.”

A bug-eyed stare was his reply. “What?!”

“Mary Fair's adoption of Sephiroth was finalized ten minutes ago.”

“You've gotta be kiddin' me!” the redhead said, wide-eyed, slum-born accent thickening from the shock. For a little while it looked like he was going to pass out but then he straightened, shook himself, then stepped out of the office, pulling out a phone that had miraculously _not_ disappeared on the trek in. A quick call let his superiors know what had happened, and he was ordered back to HQ. 

He closed his phone, tucked it away. An anxious look back down the hallway he'd arrived by, then he was back in the office doorway. “D'you have a back door? Those kids are vicious, yo!”

Kate gave him directions, then the four of them watched as he limped away, grinning into their tea as they saw, fluttering lightly against his back, that oldest of children's pranks; the 'Kick Me' sign.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to IJ/LJ on 3-12-2008

**Part 7**

It was well into November when Sephiroth finally returned to the Shinra complex. 

He'd spent the last few weeks in Gongaga in the home of his new family. Zack had been there on leave for the first week, helping him to get settled in. It had been easier than he'd feared; he could guess that his previous experience at the orphanage had let him grow enough 'people skills' to manage. But still, Gongaga was definitely a... rather unique... town.

He liked it.

It was strange at first, having a mother, but with Zack's constant nagging he'd stopped calling her 'Ms. Fair' by the end of the week, though he couldn't bring himself to be so informal as to call her 'Mom' like Zack did. He could still remember the look on her face the first time he'd hesitantly called her 'Mother'. Zack explained to him later that the tears in her eyes had been happy ones, though it took her assurance before he could quite believe it.

How could tears be happy, after all?

It was only when a large, thick letter arrived for him at the end of the week – a collection of drawings and tactical plans, most featuring a certain redhead, as well as well-wishes – from the children at the orphanage and his own eyes teared up did he truly believe it, and begin to realize just how much he himself had been changed by the whole experience.

Now back in Midgar, walking the familiar route up to his office and the paperwork monster he was sure had accumulated in his absence, he allowed a small smile to surface. It was good to be back.

He could have lived without the giant 'Welcome Back, General!' sign that hung festively in the main courtyard of the SOLDIER building, as well as the full turnout of every SOLDIER on-premises to witness his early-morning return, but shrugged it off. Zack was Zack, after all.

As he entered the building, he was forced to admit that he might have picked up more habits than he knew from the children. Why else was he valiantly trying to resist the urge to chuckle – not giggle. _Definitely_ not giggle – as the doors closed behind him and his men, struck momentarily speechless as he gave them a genuine smile at their boisterous welcoming calls, erupted into echoing cheers sure to spark more than a few calls from irritated, self-important Shinra execs.

The double-takes as personnel caught sight of him were amusing, helping to buoy his mood even further. 

Having gotten used to the loose, comfortable clothing provided him first by the orphanage and then by Mother, he found himself unable to go back to his old, confining leathers. So instead, he was wearing what every other SOLDIER was wearing, and he had to admit that there might actually have been someone with sense behind the design of the uniform, as there clearly had not for his old attire. Until he'd practiced in it in Gongaga before his departure, he'd never known that the tight leather was holding him back, was hindering his movements. Now that he could actually _move_ , he was so much better at fighting it might have scared him if he wasn't so busy delighting in the fact.

His hair was also different. Still the same impossibly long fall of silver it had always been, but now bound in a thick, heavy braid. It was strange at first - going through the warm-ups with that odd thumping against his back - but once he added a bit of speed he had to admit it was nice being able to see all the time without having his view obstructed by a silver veil, not getting it tangled around his arms and pulled when he swung.

His good mood lasted the trip to his office, faded slightly as he opened the door only to be greeted by the sight of the paperwork monster he'd been dreading. For longer than he'd willingly admit, he stood on the threshold, hand gripping the doorknob so tightly it squealed. Then he entered, going over to the spot he was almost certain his desk had once been, barely fighting back the urge to simply torch the whole thing.

Stopped.

Clearly none of this was essential if it had been left here to pile up when everyone knew he was gone. He'd long wondered just why other departments' paperwork ended up in _his_ inbox, and now he knew.

Like a good soldier he'd been stupid enough to do it, to let them get away with it. That was why his hours were eaten up trying to solve other peoples' problems, why he was the one that arranged the laundry pick-up on more than one occasion, or had to decide how many cans of unidentifiable green glop the cafeteria had to order.

He moved an unsteady stack out of the way so he might actually be able to sit in his chair, and a slip of paper fell to the floor. He set the stack on top another equally unstable stack on his desk, then retrieved it. It was a ticket for the pick-up of Heidegger's suit from one of the local dry-cleaners.

Enough. Was. Enough.

He took a deep, calming breath and thought.

What would Speckle do?

Blue-green eyes glinted wickedly, even as an evil smirk made its way across his face.

Well, he knew what Speckle's evil twin would do, if he'd had one...

***

Zack reported to Sephiroth's office not too long after the General's arrival, accompanied by a dozen other SOLDIERs, all of them carrying standard Shinra-stamped file boxes.

The spiky-haired brunet paused in the office doorway, the mangled doorknob-and-keypad showing why it was open; until it was fixed, it was anyone's guess whether or not the thing would work, and he knew _he_ wouldn't want to be locked in his office with the amount of paper that had piled up in Seph's.

“Seph?” he called, knocking lightly on the doorframe.

There was a rustling from the spot he _thought_ the desk might be hiding, then the General came into view. A little. They could see part of his head around the heap of papers, anyway. “Oh, Zack, good, you're here,” the silver-haired man said. “And you brought the others...?”

“We're thirteen,” Zack confirmed. “What do you need us to do?”

Sephiroth came out from behind the heap and walked over to them, one paper in hand. He showed it to them; it was a map of the room, complete with paperwork monster. “Here we are,” he said, pointing to an X marked at the door. The finger tracked across the paper. “We start here, and work our way toward the far wall in a classic flanking maneuver - Team One on the left, Team Two on the right, Zack and I taking the front - followed by a concentrated assault on the central mass by both groups. Everyone have their boxes?”

“Uh?” Zack said intelligently, staring, even as the others brandished their boxes in puzzled compliance.

“Once the boxes are full, we retreat down to the lounge and dump them out there, then return here for the next assault until we can see not only the desk but the floor as well. As I recall, there _is_ one under there. Zack. You called the men to assemble in the lounge?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Once the office is cleared, we will proceed to the lounge and I will explain what the hell we're doing. Any questions?”

Blue-green eyes scanned the men, grinned when they remained silent. “Good. Divide yourselves into teams and let's get to it!”

He turned and walked back into the room, accepting a box from Zack as he went. He saw the others spreading out, cautiously beginning their assault. They sped up quite a bit when they saw him just grabbing up handfuls and showing them haphazardly into his box with no effort at organization at all.

***

Between the fourteen of them, they made quick work of the paperwork monster, then made their way back to the lounge where other SOLDIERs had gathered. The others were busily sorting the regurgitated monster into piles based on department of origin.

Sephiroth stood a little to one side and cleared his throat. Everyone stopped what they were doing to pay attention. He grinned. “You're probably wondering what we're doing. Let me show you.” He brandished a scrap of paper. “This,” he said, casting it a disparaging glance. “Is Heidegger's dry-cleaning ticket.” He reached down, picked up a paper at random. “The cafeteria in the main Shinra building request for more forks.” Another. “Palmer wants a-” a grimace, then the paper met a particularly gruesome shredded demise “-let's not go there. I'm going to have nightmares.” He paused as a few of the men chuckled, then continued. “The point is, this paper is all like this. All of it piled up while I was away, so clearly it is non-essential. And clearly misplaced. We, as dutiful SOLDIERs, must do our utmost to help organize this mess, _and_ make sure they don't misplace their paperwork in the future. How shall we do this?” The evil grin made a reappearance, sparking similar grins from the men. “I'm glad you asked.”

***

Late that afternoon, precisely fifteen minutes before the end of office hours, SOLDIERs began delivering boxes to various departments in the Shinra complex, dropping off their burdens at the office of the head of the department and leaving, wearing evil grins all the while. Many left whistling.

Each box was accompanied by a note, short and to the point.

_You must have misplaced this._  
XOXO  
Sephiroth 

Inside the boxes was the paperwork they'd sent to the SOLDIER-General's office, each and every single page folded into carefully-pressed origami.

Back in his Shinra-assigned quarters, Sephiroth turned the ringer of his phone off and grinned.

He had a mother and brother, he was closer to his men than ever, and his workload was sure to diminish as the unnecessary was returned to sender in pretty shapes.

He settled into his couch, flicked on his huge TV for the very first time – he'd checked to make sure it was actually plugged in – and settled in for the evening.

Life, he decided, was good.

**END**

 

**Omake**

“Sephiroth!”

Sephiroth looked up from his desk to see President Shinra standing in his doorway, Hojo a creepy shadow behind him. He stood. “Sir?”

“Hojo tells me you've missed every appointment he's set up for you since your return.”

An unrepentant nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Care to tell me _why?_ ”

Sephiroth reached down, opened a drawer in his desk, pulled out a letter and handed it to the President. “Here, sir.”

Shinra tore open the letter, read it. His face turned purple and he glared at the General. “What is this?” he almost screeched, waving the letter.

“A note from my mother saying I don't have to go with Hojo, sir.”

“I know what it is!” The red-faced man took the letter and tore it into tiny bits. “That's what I think of it! Pah! Now you will go with Hojo down to the lab and you will go _now!_ ”

“No, sir.”

“ _What?!_ ”

Sephiroth pulled out another pair of letters, one much thicker and bearing the crest of the Midgar Social Services, the other with the insignia of the Midgar Police, and handed them over. “This is a copy of the findings of the Social Services hearing, as well as a copy of a restraining order against the Professor. He is to have no contact with me. Ever.”

If President Shinra's face was red, Hojo's was an enraged mix of pure purples, reds, and blues, and he was so angry he couldn't speak, emitting a garbled mix of grunts and whines. Then he pulled himself together a little and stalked forward. “Listen to me, you ungrateful little-”

From seemingly out of nowhere – which turned out to be a couch in Sephiroth's office out of sight of the door – came a couple of Midgar Police officers, who had just dropped off the paperwork in question and lingered to answer a few of the General's questions about it.

The next thing Hojo knew, he was slammed face-first into the wall and his hands were cuffed behind him. 

Then he was hauled off to jail.

**END**


End file.
